Not The Three Words I Wanted To Hear
by Zira Angel
Summary: Prowl and Lockdown attend Ratchet and Arcee's bonding ceremony. TFA
1. First Day

Hello, readers!

This is actually one of the first stories that Tash and I wrote! So if you read us before because you adore crack... well, this is Lockdown/Prowl.

WHICH IS TO SAY, A VERY POPULAR PAIRING.

GASP.

It is still kind of cracky, I guess? I mean, there is a bonding ceremony for Ratchet and Arcee, and mentions of other pairings later on. ... more outright statements of other pairings, but whatever. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

Also, if you don't like Prowl and Lockdown mentioning being with other bots, I'd really advise you not to read this. I mean, you _can_, just don't yell at me because you are all, "They are in love, I do not like them the way you are doing this!" ... You don't have to read it. I will not be upset. Promise.

I will be kind of sad if you read it, liked it, and didn't leave a review or a story alert or something. I mean, if you don't, I kind of think I did something wrong! no one likes it when a writer you enjoyed thinks they did something wrong when they didn't!

I BET YOU DIDN'T READ ALL THAT NONSENSE. HAVE A STORY.

* * *

**First Day**

Lockdown had docked their ship with much grumbling and general fussiness, but he had yet to actually protest being made to come with Prowl to Ratchet and Arcee's bonding ceremony, so Prowl was relatively certain he didn't mind. There hadn't been an official bonding in vorns, and Prowl himself had never been to one, which meant he assumed Lockdown had never been either and was likely a bit curious, even if he had made thinly veiled comments about expecting payment for attending. He could guess exactly what sort of currency the larger mech had in mind.

Prowl takes care to pack the bonding gift he'd selected a half dozen organic plants obtained from a half dozen separate worlds, each contained in special glass cases that replicate the proper atmospheres. He hopes Ratchet and Arcee appreciate them, and frets for a moment, wondering if the instructions he has provided for their care are explicit enough.

Prowl puts a servo over the surface of one of the organic plants they're giving as a gift for the first solar cycle. The gift for each step of the ceremony is to fit a theme, and today's is something personal from the giver. There is nothing more personal of a gift than a plant to him. The plant unfurls slightly at the heat coming from his servo, and he smiles softly.

Lockdown stomps noisily, obviously protesting the fact that Prowl made him clean up for this, but the motorcyclebot can't help it when his fans kick on at the sight of him all polished and shiny. Giving the mech a kiss, and deftly avoiding the larger bot's grabby servos, he leads him out of the ship and to the reception area.

His spark jumps at the sight of his companions; it's been far too long since their last visit, and he can scarcely remember the last time all of them were in one place for more than a few cycles. Arcee and Ratchet look happy, if a bit nervous, and Optimus, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead are all standing nearby. It makes sense that they've all arrived before Prowl and Lockdown, seeing as the other bots all live on Cybertron, though Bulkhead spends nearly all of his time in distant parts of space, working on space bridges.

Lockdown thrusts one of the plants out at the couple, case held gingerly in his servos, as if he is afraid it is going to bite him. Prowl shakes his head. Bitten by one single organic plant and Lockdown was convinced they were all now after him.

Arcee smiles warmly at them as she takes the plants while Ratchet gives Lockdown a glare that is downright poisonous. Prowl clasps the medicbot's servo in his own as a greeting, and it changes from hateful to joyful. He's almost surprised at being pulled into a tight hug and told how wonderful it is to see him again.

He returns the embrace because it really has been too long long enough that Prowl had been surprised to learn that his friends were planning on a traditional bonding ceremony, and had in fact already scheduled it. Neither bot seemed old-fashioned enough to want it, but there was absolutely no way he was going to turn down the invitation they had extended. So here he was, freshly polished and waxed, with a partner whose very spikes were gleaming from an unexpected and thorough cleaning.

Prowl hopes that whatever room Arcee and Ratchet have them assigned to, it has polishing cloths, because it's going to be very difficult to explain away all the paint scuffs he's planning on giving Lockdown otherwise.

"I'm so glad you could make it, both of you," Arcee must be overflowing with happiness, Prowl decides, because few bots other than himself tend to be _glad_ when Lockdown shows up for anything.

Prowl glances over as Lockdown shifts uncomfortably, and he gently pulls away from Ratchet. Putting a comforting servo on Lockdown's wheel, he says to Arcee, "We wouldn't miss it for anything."

They all ignore Lockdown's tiny snort, and Prowl excuses them, so Arcee and Ratchet can go back to greeting guests. "But we can catch up later, there will be plenty of time."

Wanting to secure good seats for the opening ceremony, Prowl greets the rest of his team quickly. Even with a restricted guest list Prowl knows that couple had received thousands of requests for an invitation there are hundreds of bots here in the reception hall. The first and final days of a bonding are open to any and all bots that want to witness them, or _can_ witness them, and he knows that if they don't hurry, the thousands of bots vying for seats will have left them only with standing room.

"Optimus, Bumblebee, Bulkhead," he smiles warmly, it always warms his spark to see them. "We should hurry if we want to be able to _see_ Ratchet and Arcee making their vows."

"Yeah," Bee drawls, "I can't believe there are so many bots here! It's just a bonding thing. I mean, c'mon, if it wasn't Ratchet, I wouldn't even _be_ here."

All the rest of the group nod in agreement, and step through the doors to the ceremony room. Prowl barely has time to look for an open space when a medium size femme shows up to escort them all to the front. He shakes his head in amusement; _Of course_ Arcee and Ratchet would make certain they got good seats.

He was almost afraid that there wouldn't be enough room for Lockdown, since Ratchet would have taken a space away if he could get away with it. But, to his surprise, there is actually one extra seat. He glances at Optimus, who he just realized has come alone, and winces. He'll be sure to ask the mech when they catch up.

Prowl makes sure that empty seat is placed at the end of their group, and sits on one side of Optimus after seeing Bumblebee take the other side. Bulkhead can sit at the end; Prowl's sure he'll appreciate the extra room, and he's not letting Optimus spend the entire ceremony thinking about the empty space.

He places one servo over Lockdown's, more to stop any potential groping than anything else, though he does love the simple comfort of touching this way. Arcee and Ratchet have finished greeting their guests and are standing at the front of the room, between two crystal pillars. The entire hall falls silent, and Prowl's servos clench in reflex against Lockdown's.

Most of the ritual is conducted in ancient Cybertronian, and Prowl can only catch and translate half of it, but the bits he can catch are simply fascinating. Love, prosperity, something that sounds like a shortened version of the creation of their people; Prowl wonders why it's all included, and whether Ratchet and Arcee are truly listening, or simply lost in each other's optics.

He glances over, and just barely stops a snort. Lockdown is staring ahead blankly, and thinking about something. It obviously isn't thinking about Prowl, or the bot's fans would have started. And, if the mech had turned off his fans, he would have been able to tell anyway. Lockdown has never been subtle, and he _i__s_ holding servos with him.

To reward his _relatively_ good behavior, Prowl strokes one of Lockdown's servos with his own, drawing a startled look from the larger mech. Prowl just smiles, and squeezes, and turns his attention back to the ceremony. Ratchet and Arcee are speaking now, offering vows and saying what they value in the other bot, what they love, and Prowl's spark aches in his chest.

He's been with Lockdown for thirty stellar cycles now, and the mech has never once told Prowl that he loved him not seriously. And Prowl will go to the Pit before he says it first.

He knows the larger mech _does_ love him, it is in every step he takes, and the way he runs a servo over over Prowl's back when he's not feeling well. He sighs, semi-morosely, and leans his head on Lockdown's arm, avoiding the spikes without even thinking about it. The larger mech rubs a servo on the top of Prowl's, and the motorcyclebot cheers up instantly, if not visibly to anyone that isn't Lockdown or his teammates.

There are more words said by the ministerbot, consisting of what Prowl assumes is an overview of the next few solar cycles, though by this point, he has it tuned out nearly as much as Lockdown does. Warmth seeps from the larger mech's armor into his own, and it feels so intimate and comfortable to be like this with him. Sometimes, they will spend most of an entire solar cycle in the berth, and Prowl will soak up the greater heat of Lockdown's frame like an organic Earth cat soaked up the sun's rays.

It isn't until everyone gets up that Prowl realizes he should too. He shakes himself mentally, while physically getting up as gracefully as ever. Lockdown sneers down at all the bots staring at them, and Prowl taps him lightly on the leg to remind him to remain on good behavior.

They manage to get out of there with as little fuss as they can, heading out to the reception area which is now filled with various cubes of energon. Somehow, they end up being talked to by Arcee and Ratchet, off to the side of everyone, and Lockdown standing in the way to hide their conversations from the vast amount of reporterbots and eavesdropping bots just wanting to be next to someone famous.

Arcee keeps telling them how amazing it is to be going through the bonding process, giving them very blatant looks. "It's a little nerve-wracking, but bonding is one of the best things a committed pair of bots can do, I think," and her optics shift between them both, clearly asking why _they_ were not bonded yet.

Prowl smiles congenially, there's no way he's going to enter a bond. "We're both very happy for you."

Beside them, Ratchet grumbles, "You know, Prowl, I heard that Jazz is available again. Just broke up with that other bot he'd been seeing." The medic stares at him for a long moment.

"Thank you, Ratchet." The motorcyclebot takes the opportunity to link his servo with Lockdown's again. "I'll make sure to visit him the next time we're in the area."

He ignores Lockdown's look of delight at Ratchet, and gently pulls him away. It is getting sufficiently late enough that they can just head to the room they were given without anyone protesting. He's thankful he had already made arrangements to catch up with his team in the morning, since it was getting increasingly hard not to run a servo along Lockdown's chest and pulling him into a kiss as he scuffs and dents the larger mech's shiny spikes and paint.

Upon opening the door to their room, however, Prowl's processor completely blanks. There is. What the. Lockdown is standing frozen in shock beside him.

Their room is . . . hideous, in ways that Prowl has never even imagined. The berth is large, which Prowl appreciates, as Lockdown is a very large mech, but it's _glowing blue_. Spark blue, to be precise, and the color is_ pulsating_ in a way that Prowl just cannot bring himself to trust. It's nauseating, and he feels as if staring directly at it for too long might make him purge his tanks.

Nearly every surface in the room is mirrored, and while a single mirror or two near the berth might prove to be erotic, hundreds of mirrors give the room an aura of menace as if it were some monstrous nightmarish trap of countless reflections.

He forces himself inside, and vaguely considers asking Arcee if they can have a different room. He's fairly certain _Ratchet_ choose this one for them for the sheer terror of it. But there's a tiny part of his processor reminding him that she has been pressing them into bonding, and this is so clearly a newlywed's room.

Shuddering, he pulls Lockdown in with him, and the mech shuts the door firmly as he says, "What the frag is this, kid? I'm not sleeping in that Pit damned glowing bed."

"It's," he's at an utter loss for words, "It can be turned off, I'm positive." But one long, fruitless search later, he's found no way to shut the glow off.

"If that thing doesn't stop, we're going back to the ship and recharging there," Lockdown growls.

That would break so many traditions that it hurts Prowl's processor just to think about it. So he lets his optics offline and he proceeds to use his processor over matter ability for possibly the most frivolous thing he has ever used it for. But his humming has successfully disrupted the blue light, leaving the berth harmless, so he feels absolutely no regret for abusing his abilities this way.

He glares at the mirrors lining the walls, but can't figure out a way to remove them without damage. So when Lockdown steps behind him and starts to lick the back of his neck, he just offlines his optics to feel only that.

Several of his fans click on in response to the sudden surge of heat from his engine Lockdown knows every one of his hotspots by now, and is making a deliberate effort to tease them all with his wicked, wicked servos. His glossa is far from idle, licking up one of his fairings, and for a moment Prowl can feel _dente_ on the very tip of it, applying just enough pressure to make his engine _roar_.

Then, Lockdown's voice in his audio, "I want your optics online for this, Prowl."

So he turns in his arms, puts his servos on Lockdown's chest before onlining his optics, because if he stays close enough, he won't see too much of the nightmarish mirror walls.

He shudders gently, just barely stopping himself from popping open his spark chamber too early. The larger mech is almost insufferable when he does that, and Prowl isn't going to give him the satisfaction. Lifting his head, his blue optics meet Lockdown's red ones, and he opens his mouth. The large mech complies with the unspoken request, glossa intermingling.

To reach the sensitive spikes on Lockdown's neck, Prowl normally has to stand on his toes and stretch, but when he's close like this, kissing him, it's easy to play with them. He drags the tips of his servos around each spike, until he hears Lockdown's panel click open, the sound distinct and sharp over the mech's groans.

"Think we should move this to the berth," Lockdown mutters, voice hitching when Prowl lets his servos tease around the edge of his spark chamber.

Prowl licks a spike before murmuring, "If you're sure you want to."

"Kid," Lockdown grits out, clearly fighting back a moan, "I'd 'face you against the nearest flat surface in an instant. But I'm gonna knock you offline and you might wanna being laying down for that."

Prowl chuckles, amused with his partner's promises. "Berth, then."

* * *

When Lockdown onlines his optics, Prowl is laying on him as he traces the larger bot's edging with a single servo.

"You knocked the wrong bot offline, Lockdown," he purrs, and Lockdown's fans kick on underneath him. They lay there, systems gradually cooling down, fans quieting in slow increments.

"Kid?" Lockdown's voice is hardly louder than a whisper. "I've got something important to say to you."

Prowl's spark surges in his chest, and everything becomes sharper as he focuses all his systems on this moment. Is Lockdown about to confess oh, Primus, please.

"So, Ratchet mentioned Jazz was free . . . Want a threesome?"

His expression goes from quietly hopeful to hard and blank. Rolling off down Lockdown's side, he throws him off the berth and into the wall. Ignoring the mech's call of, "Kid?" Prowl turns over to his side, facing away, and goes to _sleep_.

* * *

**Please Review**

Yeah, this _could _be the end. But it isn't.

There will be an update next Monday.

And as you can most likely tell, I cut out porn there, go check it out on my livejournal. That's linked on my homepage on my profile. If you are reading this not on Monday, it is linked in the masterlist on the top of it. Because I love you, reader. I. Love. You. ._.


	2. Second Day

Is it times for an update and Author's note? I think it is!

How wonderful!

Okay, let's see. Pairings... Lockdown/Prowl, Arcee/Ratchet, Optimus/Blackarachnia, Bumblebee/Blurr, and Sari/omc/ofc (who are only briefly mentioned, and you never ever see)

I don't really have much to say about this one. Uh... There is fluff? And the team talking together? And a great deal of mentioning threesomes, I guess? Man, I dunno. Someone leave a review with a better description of this chapter. If you do it, you will get this bit edited out, replaced with your's, and it credited to you! What a wonderful prize!

* * *

He onlines to Lockdown's arm draped across his frame. Rubbing his optics, he slips out of the berth. Absently kissing his mech on the forehead, he then looks around the room for some polishing cloths. Finding them easily, he cleans off all the paint scuffs and buffs out all the dings that are just the usual consequences of interfacing, then heads out. Lockdown will be out of it for megacycles, and he's only up because he'd promised his teammates he'd be up to talk with them.

He's almost asleep on his feet when he gets to where Bee, Optimus, and Bulkhead are waiting. Waving at them, he asks, "So where is Sari?"

Optimus answers him, "She was scheduled to make a space bridge jump just a short while ago. She should be here soon."

Prowl nods absently, fighting the urge to yawn as he drops into a chair. It is far, far too early to be doing this.

He wants to ask how his team has been doing, but doesn't wish for Sari to be left out of the discussion, so he is content to wait, sipping from a cube of energon he picked up from the table. The stack of empty cubes on the table indicate that his friends have already eaten Bulkhead in particular has consumed quite a lot. Bumblebee is fidgeting, having almost certainly taken more than he needs, not helped by the fact that he's a naturally energetic bot.

Sari shows up just as he's finishing his cube, and no longer feeling like he got dragged along the ground by a Decepticon. She's significantly more grown up than when he saw her last. It is in the way she carries herself. While she wasn't as awkward as most of the humans were at her age, she now has a more confident walk. It makes his spark hurt that he no longer has to protect her now, but also makes it swell with pride.

Her armor retracts when she sees them, a broad grin stretching across her face, "Optimus, Bee, it's been a while," she turns to face Bulkhead and Prowl, "and it's been even longer since I saw you two. Why do you both have to be gone so often?" She embraces each of them in turn.

"I get called out on jobs an awful lot, Sari, you know that," Bulkhead rubs the back of his helmet sheepishly. "I'm the number one space bridge technician!" And he almost glows with pride over that fact, so happy that Prowl can't help but be happy for him as well.

Prowl smiles at her, "And I'm still bounty hunting with Lockdown. Neither of us have gotten tired of it, and it is doubtful we will. He's been doing it for stellar cycles longer than I have, and he's unlikely to stop any time soon."

"Yeah, so how's that working out for you? Are you still meeting lots of _interesting_ new bots while you're out?" She gives him a long, level look.

He smiles at her, "Oh, I'm sure no more than you meet at that club you like to frequent."

Sari smiles back, showing off her dente. She turns to Bumblebee, "Are you still _modeling_, Bee?"

Bumblebee's faceplate flushes, his servos fidgeting on his lap. "Yeah. I'm still modeling. They're_ very_ tasteful pictures, and I enjoy my career."

Optimus's optics had bounced back and forth between them, during their exchange, and he rubs the back of his head, confused by the dynamic.

"What're you guys talking about?" Bulkhead asks. "What club? What bots? Bee, you started modeling?" He looks deeply hurt, "Why haven't you shown me any of the pictures?"

"Oh, it's just," Bee stutters, servos twitching nervously, "I just, pretty sure you wouldn't be interested in them. They're uh, they're boring pictures."

Sari and Prowl shoot each other a look, one that clearly says they need to have this conversation when the two bots that_ don't_ know their dirty not so little secrets aren't there and they should try to change the subject as smoothly as they can.

"Incredibly boring, Bulkhead, you wouldn't want to see them. But, if you insist, we'll get you a copy as soon as possible. It is just of Bee sitting in a chair looking at the camera, though," Sari cuts in.

And Prowl interjects smoothly after, "But didn't we want to go browsing the shops? Since it has been so long since some of us have been here, after all."

Bee jumps to his peds, nearly bouncing with nervous energy. "Yeah, we should get going if we want to get back in time for the whatever it is Ratchet and Arcee are gonna be doing later."

The minibot races in circles around them when they exit, and Prowl adds a cube to the amount he'd assumed Bee had eaten that morning.

Enough is enough, however, and he snags the bot on his next pass, pulling him back in line with them. "Calm down, Bumblebee. The shops will still be there even if it takes us a few breems to walk to them."

Optimus shakes his head, "You know, even after everything that happened, I'm not sure Bumblebee knows _how_ to be calm."

Bee gives them a dirty look, but doesn't say anything. It makes Prowl think that the minibot really _has_ grown up, and a tiny part of him mourns it.

"Oh, man, Sari? Did you remember to bring me all the video games I asked for?"

And then he says something like that, the feeling is gone, and he wishes Bee really did act his age.

"Yes, Bee," Sari gives him a_ look_, and shakes her head. "They're back at the hotel."

Bumblebee looks like he's about to dart off back to find them, so Prowl gives him a little push forward. "And they'll still be at the hotel _after_ we finish our shopping." Bee pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

Yes. Sometimes he really did wish that Bumblebee acted his age.

Optimus stops in front of one of the shops, and Prowl stops as well, to see what caught his old leader's optic. There's a set of purple and black armored gloves in the window, and Optimus looks visibly upset to the motorcyclebot.

"Optimus," Prowl keeps his tone gentle, "is everything alright?"

The red and blue mech startles, shaking himself out of whatever memory had caught him. "Yes, Prowl. I'm fine." He notices the other bots are a few shops away from them.

"We should catch up, or we'll get separated in this crowd."

Prowl doesn't want to let the matter drop, but he's willing to wait for a better moment.

He sighs, and they catch up to the other three oohing and awwing over something shiny and flashing in the window of the store they're at. He isn't really certain what it is, but he's also pretty sure he doesn't want to. Tapping each of them on the shoulder to get their attention, they go on.

Optimus stops again, turning to look back at the shop. "You know, I think there's something I'd like to buy there. The rest of you should go on. I'll catch up."

There's no way Prowl is leaving Optimus alone to his misery. "I believe I saw a few things through the window that Bulkhead might like. You should go with him."

Bulkhead smiles cheerily, "I'm good with that. Just don't get too far ahead of us or we'll have to call you."

After both bots are out of hearing distance, Prowl turns his optics on Bumblebee. "'Tasteful' pictures, Bumblebee? Really? I've_ seen_ some of those pictures, and none of them are 'tasteful'."

Bee backs up slightly, saying softly, "Well,_ Blurr_ likes it," before Prowl can ask about_ that_, he juts out his chin defiantly, "At least I'm not going around 'facing random bots."

Sari cuts in, "But _you_ expose your spark and pose provocatively. I saw the one with you holding your cable and giving this _look_. I never wanted to see such a thing from my brotherbot. The only time I should see it is if I have to _fix you_. And if I end up having to fix your cable, I absolutely don't want to know how you damaged it"

"Oh, like you're one to talk, Sari," Bumblebee snaps, "we both know you've been going to_ that_ club."

"What club? The_ sex_ club?" And Sari breaks into laughter at the way both bots turn slightly green. Prowl loves organics, but the way they interface is just . . . messy and strange. "Rita and Jack both like it, and so do I. At least I'm going with the same people every time, unlike some other bot who shall remain nameless." She stares directly at Prowl.

"Wait,_ two_ of them? You've been with two of them, Sari? How long have you guys been together?" Bee asks, because longterm threesomes are rare among Cybertronians.

"Six years," and it's a challenge as much as it is a statement. Prowl himself is startled to find that she's been with them quite that long. He'd known about them before, but apparently Sari was better at hiding things from them than he'd anticipated.

"That's... quite a long time for humans, isn't it?" Prowl interjects.

Sari nods, and smiles, "Well, kinda. I mean, once you get past the one or two year mark, it just keeps rolling."

"And you love them, right?" Bee is enthusiastically curious, but his expression clearly says he can't see how she can... interface with a human, nor does he want her to ever explain.

"Yeah, I do." She smiles at them both, then turns her full attention on Prowl, "Have you told Lockdown you love him yet?" She gives him a very dirty look, and it is everything he can do to keep from fidgeting.

"As you well know, I am waiting for him to say it first. But, we both know it, so I'm not going to push it."

Both Bee and Sari give each other a look, and Sari presses, "You aren't still taking this as a challenge, are you? Because that's not the best way to take this sort of thing. Just say it, and get it over with. I don't think your..."

She searches for a word, and Bee_ oh so helpfully_ says, "Boytoy?" with a wicked grin on his face.

Sari matches his expression, "_Boytoy_ realizes it is that important to you."

Prowl clears his throat and changes the subject, "So! Bee! What is this about Blurr?"

Bee mutters something and starts walking away, but Prowl manages to decipher that Blurr and Bee had been together for a bit less than a stellar cycle, and his 'modeling' had somehow been involved in their meeting again. Prowl hopes Blurr hasn't decided to start baring his spark for random bots too.

They're walking down the street once more, because they really do need to visit at least a few shops so they can claim to have been shopping while Optimus and Bulkhead were busy. Sari doesn't seem impressed by most of what is on display, but Prowl assumes that's more a matter of taste, as hers obviously still run more human than Cybertronian. Bee wants every shiny thing he comes across. Not unusual.

And then he sees it. It's in the corner and back of the display, but it's_ perfect_. It's green and black, with hints of red, and it is absolutely bristling with shiny silver spikes. He has to buy it. Prowl has_ no idea_ what it is, but he has to buy it.

He presses his servos to the window for an astrocycle, and just steps into the shop, not even paying attention to Bee as he shouts at him to stop. Sari follows him in, reverting to botmode quickly, but he barely notices. Grabbing the spiky thing, he realizes quickly it can be slipped on Lockdown's hip wheels, perfect for traction while in car mode... and for other things. He shakes that thought out of his head before his fans have a chance to kick on.

The bot behind the counter accepts his credits while Sari gives him a knowing look, and he's likely just been overcharged for the chains, but Prowl does not _care_. He has plenty of credits to his name and Lockdown is going to l_ove_ his present. When his mech appreciates a gift, he tends to show his thanks in ways that are very, very pleasing to the motorcyclebot.

Prowl carries his present very carefully, as the spikes are very sharp. He's marginally aware of the odd looks he gets, carrying such a thing through the streets, but stellar cycles at Lockdown's side has made him immune to them.

They step out and Optimus is there to greet him. He's holding the gloves in his servos, and is rubbing them gently, if a little sadly. He looks up when Sari clears her throat, though, and gives them both a smile. "Bulkhead and Bee are in a store right now, but should be back in a little bit."

Sari and Prowl shoot the larger mech a look that conveys their disbelief handily, but don't comment. Walking over to the Optimus, Prowl gives the gloves a small look. "How has it been with you and Blackarachnia?"

"We're fine," he promises, but the smile on his face is so forced it's painful, and his servos continue to rub the gloves, "she was just . . . busy, and couldn't make it to the bonding."

Sari scolds him, "Don't lie to us, Optimus. We're your family, and you don't get to put on the brave face for us."

"It," he sighs and lowers his optics, "it _will_ be fine. She's upset with me. Again. I invited her to come to the bonding with me, and she took it badly." A pained sound escapes him before he can fight it back, "I really shouldn't have picked up these gloves for her."

Sari hugs him as tightly as she can when he's so much larger than her, and Prowl rubs a single servo on his back. "Well... maybe someday she will be as committed as you, and can give the gloves to her then?"

Optimus gives them a small smile at that, and Prowl mentally curses himself for encouraging him like that. It is unlikely Blackarachnia really will ever stop shoving Optimus away just after going back to him. He just wishes the techno-organic would make up her mind already, they could help Optimus if she decides to break it off, at the very least.

Talking about Blackarachnia tends to upset Optimus quite badly, so Prowl isn't at all surprised when his ex-leader changes the subject, tucking the gloves in his subspace to point at the heap of green and black and silver that Prowl is holding. "Did you buy that for Lockdown?"

Prowl wonders who else Optimus could possibly assume he'd buy a set of spikes for. "Yes, I did." There's awkward silence for a moment, before Bee comes bursting out of the shop, bouncing like he had springs on his feet.

"Look, look!" he cries, waving a set of, well, Prowl assumes they're inertial dampeners of some sort. "These are going to make me_ even faster_! I might even be able to catch Blurr with these on!"

Prowl look at them and shakes his head. "You're going to run head first into a wall the first time you use them." He puts up a servo to stave off Bee's protest, "But I'm sure you can learn to use them. Just be in a really clear area while you get used to them."

Bulkhead comes out shortly thereafter, "They had to special order what I wanted in my size. Guess I'll get it the next time I come back to Cybertron."

An internal chime alerts Prowl that he needs to head back to the hotel if he wants to have enough time to make sure Lockdown is awake and polished clean before they attend that solar cycle's portion of the ceremony.

He excuses himself, and just shakes his head at their protests that he shouldn't leave yet. Hurrying back to the room, he puts the chains down gently, and sits in the berth next to his mech. Running a servo on Lockdown's chest, he smiles as the other bot shifts just enough to let him slip into his arms.

Lockdown always runs a bit hotter than the motorcyclebot does, so Prowl enjoys curling against his frame and letting that heat seep into him. Meditation is still important to Prowl, and he used to online long before Lockdown to practice in the depths of their ship, but now he prefers to stay in the berth. It's a different sort of meditation, he thinks, optics dimming as his entire frame relaxes, systems all cycling into lower energy states.

They stay that way for a half a megacycle, only for Lockdown's alarm to force them to get up. He comes out of meditation slowly, Lockdown's servo on his hip and glossa on the tip of his chevron. Chuckling at him softly, Prowl shakes his head before kissing him.

"No time to 'face right now, we need to get ready." He punctuates that with a single servo rubbing off a fleck of gold on Lockdown's frame.

It takes longer than usual to clean up, mostly due to Lockdown's wandering servos playing with the panel over his spark chamber. Normally, Prowl would tease him back, but in this sort of mood Lockdown would just pop open his chamber and then they'd never get to the ceremony on time. When they're both presentable, he fetches their gift for that day from their storage. Sparkling gifts were supposed to encourage a couple to produce sparklings, but Prowl's processor glitches a bit every time he tries to imagine what Ratchet and Arcee's sparklings will look like.

They head to the ceremony, giving them the sparkling toys, which he still had no clue why Lockdown had them hidden in the ship under various mods, and the plant that he was_ certain_ any sparkling would love. He makes sure to place the plant where it won't get knocked over or hurt, and they head in. Again, they are brought to the front, only this time yesterday's empty seat is holding Sari. Giving his family a smile, he settles in for what he is sure will be a very nice and traditional ceremony.

Ratchet and Arcee walk in together, and Prowl's processor goes blank. Both bots are covered from head to peds in cybertronian glyphs. Every imaginable color graces their frames, from lime green on a shoulder to some awful swirled blue and pale pink on their hips; he has to look away to stop himself from purging in shock. Eventually, his optics adjust, and he takes the opportunity to focus not on the participants but on the rituals. Ratchet and Arcee take a single cube of energon and take turns sipping from it until it's empty, and the ministerbot shows the empty cube to the audience. He wonders what it signifies perhaps the sharing of energies and resources a bonded couple is expected to do?

Lockdown simply stares straight ahead, expression so blank that Prowl worries for a moment that his partner has learned to recharge with his optics online.

While Optimus is on his other side, looking horribly depressed. Prowl can instantly tell he's thinking of Blackarachnia. Patting his side softly, the larger mech jumps slightly before realizing it was Prowl. Optimus gives him a weak smile, and gets a stern look in return along with a light one armed hug. The motorcyclebot would prefer he _didn't_ try to hide his feeling in front of them.

He wishes Optimus had someone constant and reliable. It was doing terrible things to him, being jerked back and forth at Blackarachnia's whim. Organic half or not, nothing excused that sort of behavior.

Even Bee seems to have found someone, although Prowl hardly knows Blurr. He'll have to make sure Blurr gets . . . introduced to the rest of the team sometime soon.

Sure, they'd met before, but that doesn't mean they aren't going to make certain nothing bad happens to the minibot. He pats Optimus on the side one more time and goes back to focusing on the ceremony.

The ministerbot is talking about prosperity as he does so, but he stops paying attention when he finally realizes what the sigil on Ratchet's chest means. It is ancient Cybertronian for sparklings, and is a terrible optic-searing orange. Bringing a servo up, he rubs his optics tiredly, and wishes he could get that out of his head.

Thankfully, the rest of the ceremony proceeds quickly enough, and they're released from the hall. He'd like to speak to Ratchet about Optimus, but the couple has been dragged off for more bonding work, and he won't get a chance until the following solar cycle. So he takes hold of Lockdown's servo and makes sure they both get energon to drink, and he takes the opportunity to try a few of the energon sweets that have been placed out for the guests.

He steals one from Bee's huge pile, and pats Sari on the back. She's sitting there and staring at her candy, looking shell shocked. He isn't sure if it is about the candy or what, and is just about to ask her when Bee says, "Soooooooo... did you know that Sari can understand ancient Cybertronian? And that they talk about how to interface in the ceremony?"

Prowl ignores Lockdown perking up, and pats Sari again. She says softly, "I... I want you to know. That if anyone ever bonds like this again, I'm not to be invited. I don't want to hear about teasing cables and licking spark chambers ever again."

Lockdown drapes an arm casually over Prowl's shoulders, and begins saying, "Licking spark chambers? Sounds a bit like " and Prowl shoves the energon sweet in to silence him. Preemptive strikes are the most effective method with him. He slips out from under the mech's arm and pulls Sari against his chest.

"Had we known, we would not have expected you to sit and listen, Sari. I'm sure no one will expect you to attend a bonding again," and there's the underlying hint that any bots who try to pressure her into attendance will end up with throwing stars in delicate places.

He sits down with Sari on his lap, and gently rubs her back. "You should probably eat something, it may make you feel better." He hands her the piece she was staring at before, and watches as she makes a face at the taste. Taking it back, he eats it for her, and says, "I_ think_ we have something in our ship that you can eat. You gave us those packages of food you gave us last time you were on earth. The crackers and cakes and things."

She gives him a small smile, "Yeah... that'd be good."

Lockdown looks disappointed, but Prowl knows its not that he dislikes Sari, but rather that he'd been hoping to interface with Prowl immediately after the ministerbot let them leave. They say their goodbyes to the other bots, and walk to their ship. Only one night away and he already misses their real berth, in a room not entirely plated with mirrors.

Prowl sits with Sari while she eats, and considers giving her a tour of the ship. However, he's not entirely certain he should, as Lockdown does tend to leave 'facing toys just laying around in the strangest places if he gets distracted by something else.

The ninjabot absently pokes the empty wrappers of two cracker and peanut butter packages, and doesn't pay attention as the spiked mech sneaks off further into the ship. Instead, he watches Sari eat. "Doing a little better?"

She nods at him and takes a huge bite out a snack cake. She looks like she's about to talk with her mouth full, but Prowl raises an optic ridge at her and she swallows noisily. "So!_ You_ aren't getting bonded are you? You haven't gone crazy like Optimus is thinking about becoming, and Arcee and Ratchett already are?"

Prowl laughs and shakes his head, "You will never have to worry about that with us, Sari. Bonding means just being with one other bot forever, and that's not going to happen. You_ know_ that Lockdown and I aren't going to give up adding another to our berth when we want."

Sari shakes her head. "You know you guys make the tabloids every time you do that, right? I can't walk past a news place without seeing them talking about Lockdown cheating on you again."

Primus, they both find that deeply amusing, though Prowl was upset by it the first few times it had happened. No one seemed to notice that Prowl had always been carefully cut out of any of the vids or pictures they'd captured.

He's about to respond when Lockdown wraps his arms around him and interjects, "As If I'd let Prowl slip out of my servos to do that." The ninjabot is just glad the larger mech didn't lick him after saying that, and shakes his head,

"And you wouldn't be alive afterwards, so it all evens out." He disentangles himself without thinking about it, and stands up. "You want me to bring the rest of the food with you, Sari? We can put it in your room."

"I'd like that, thanks," and he picks up the rest of the food.

"Gonna head back to our room, Prowl," Lockdown kisses his fairing. "I'll see you there."

Prowl walks with Sari, disappointed in the way she slips on her armor when they have to walk through a hallway full of other bots. He's ashamed of the way his fellow Cybertronians treat organic life. How can they not appreciate its beauty and grace?

They get into her room, and he puts down the food on her berth. He sits on the floor, watching as she flits through all the food, sorting it. He smiles when Sari says, "Man, did I give you enough cake? That seems to be the largest amount of what's here. I'm going to be so tired of it by the end of this thing."

She glances back at him, and shakes her head, "That's something I never really got about energon, really. Aside from the terrible taste, I mean. The fact that you guys have the same flavor all the time. Don't you get tired of it?"

Prowl gives her a confused look, "Tired of eating?"

Sari shakes her head, "Never mind. I guess it's different for a full Cybertronian."

"It must be. I have never grown weary of energon." Though he certainly doesn't mind adding various minerals or experimenting with different qualities and grades of it. He smiles to himself. Lockdown on high-grade is a particularly amusing mech to spend time with.

Sari just rolls her eyes at him, "While energon has never been my top choice for... fueling up." She sits heavily on the berth, and pulls the blanket she brought from earth with her onto her lap. "Thanks for saving these for me, Prowl."

He stands up, and pats her shoulder. "It isn't a problem, Sari. You gave them to me for a reason before. I'm just glad you got to them before they," he pauses, trying to remember her warning about them on a certain date, "Go bad?"

Sari laughs and waves him away, "Yeah. Go be with your boytoy. I didn't see him with the new mods you got him, so you should go put them on him before he finds wherever you hid them."

When he gets back to the room he's sharing with Lockdown, he's both horribly disappointed and pleasantly surprised. Lockdown has appropriated a can of opaque spray at some point and coated the majority of the mirrors with it. He's working on the last one and turns, startled by Prowl's arrival.

"So, yeah," he makes no effort to hide the can, "pretend you didn't see me doin' this."

The motorcyclebot takes in the room, and winces, knowing how much the hotel will likely charge Arcee and Ratchet in damages, adding that number silently to the total gift they'll be providing on the final day of the bonding. But he has to admit, even if only to himself, that the room is far less horrific with the mirrors covered.

Prowl just sighs, and picks up the mods he had left on the floor this morning. "When you're finished, I got something for you this morning."

Dropping the can, Lockdown bounds over like some gigantic and overenthusiastic puppy. The ninjabot chuckles softly, and kisses him. "They're for these." He runs a servo over one of Lockdown's hip wheels, and nibbles the spike.

He slips the chains onto his wheels, carefully wiring the mod into his system so Lockdown can retract or remove them at will, but also so his bot can _feel_ them. His glossa licks slow and teasing over a few of the spikes, and he feels the mech shudder and groan against him, engine stuttering from the new sensation. "Do you like them?" he murmurs against his hip, servos petting the spikes and chains, tugging on them carefully.

"Frag, what do you think, Prowl?" Lockdown's hips jerk, fans working hard to cool a suddenly overheated frame.

"I think," says Prowl, with another careful lick, "that I haven't played with them long enough for you to decide yet."

* * *

**Please review**

This chapter isn't any different on livejournal, actually. We didn't write porn for this chapter, even though it clearly looks like we would segue into it!


	3. Third Day

Man, what.

I am pretty wrung out for commentary.

If you want any, go ask someone else.

* * *

They wake up insanely early, and Prowl tugs Lockdown out of the berth. Ignoring the mech's tired grumbling, he shoves a polish cloth in the other bot's servo, and works on getting the paint off of himself. Shuddering at his internal clock, he works on helping clean Lockdown when he finishes himself.

Slapping Lockdown's sleepy servos from the ninjabot's chest plate, Prowl works on shining his spikes carefully. Declaring them clean enough, he kisses him softly, biting a small warning when the larger mech tries to stick his glossa in his mouth, then smacking him upside the head when his fans kick in.

The larger mech whines, "Aw, c'mon Prowl. At least give me a reason for having to be up so fragging early."

"We have a reason," Prowl insists, stepping out of reach, "and we call that reason 'friends.'"

Lockdown grumbles, glancing back at the berth with clear and obvious longing in his optics. "I bet they wouldn't mind if I recharged today. Pretty sure Ratchet wouldn't even notice."

There was no way he was letting that happen. "We came as a couple, Lockdown, so we will attend every bonding event as a couple." He grabs Lockdown's servo and pulls him out of the room before he can protest again. His bot will be on his best behavior in public, at least.

When they get to their seats, he's next to Bulkhead this time, and he smiles sleepily at him. The larger bot smiles happily back, and puts an arm around him for a hug. Hugging back, Prowl then pulls away to jab Lockdown in his side to keep him from falling into recharge.

He's every bit as tired as Lockdown and has no intention of drifting off in the middle of the ceremony, so Lockdown doesn't get the chance either. If he's going to be online, so is his partner.

The larger mech wraps his arm around Prowl, and spends the rest of the ceremony glaring at the tinier ministerbot, who actually stutters a few of his lines before managing to keep his back to them long enough to regain his composure. Prowl would protest, but he really is terribly tired, and Lockdown's warm frame isn't helping any, reminding him of lazy mornings spent pressed against his mech.

They break partway through the day, and stumble slightly sleepily to the reception area. Handing two cubes to Lockdown, Prowl jumps into his mech's lap, and starts sipping on his own. They wake up a little bit more because of it, but Lockdown is clearly thinking about sneaking them back to the room.

Shaking his head at him, he ignores him pointing a servo at Sari, who is sneaking away from the room. Since she is clearly just going to go get food she left in her room.

He deeply, deeply regrets this choice a cycle later, when the _dancing_ begins. At least, he thinks, sitting in his seat again in the main hall, it's probably dancing. Or some divine punishment from Primus himself. The bots are . . . doing _things_ up on the stage, and Prowl is almost positive they're all painted with fertility glyphs, and some of the motions they make are suggestive of playing with one another's sparks and. . .

Sweet Primus. Is this some sort of fertility ritual? His optics dart over to Ratchet and Arcee, sitting on the sidelines. Ratchet looks properly horrified, but Arcee seems almost _intrigued_?

That's a bit too terrifying to contemplate, so instead, he surveys around the hall and realizes that Sari had _not_ come back. Which could only mean one thing: she had known what was going to happen, and hadn't _warned him_. He feels deeply betrayed by that fact, he would have warned _her_, and helped her take off if he had known.

He glances up at Lockdown, and is gratified to see the mech is just as horrified as he is. Looking back around the hall, he starts to offline his optics until it is over, only for the dancers to start making _sounds_. Shuddering, he turns back on his optics, and waits in horror for this entire nightmare to be over.

It goes on for what seems like forever, and Prowl is honestly worried that his recharge is going to end in a horrible memory purge of this event for the stellar cycle. Apparently, someone had anticipated the processor-scars this _dance_ could cause, because the tables in the reception hall were stacked with high-grade. He downed an entire cube in one shot, not noticing Lockdown's appreciative look, or the way the larger mech drank two cubes in quick succession. Neither wanted to remember what they'd just witnessed.

He grabs another cube, and pulls Lockdown with him as he walks away from the table, ignoring that the mech has grabbed an entire tray; he thinks they may need it, anyway. He knows Lockdown is just starting to overcharge because he's getting pulled into the larger mech's lap; he had long since convinced the other bot that he doesn't do that unless he wanted to replace a servo... without him helping. But he's just starting to overcharge himself, so he relaxes into the touch.

Lockdown starts to nuzzle Prowl, rubbing his face against Prowl's shoulder, and Prowl feels his servos slip in smooth, easy strokes down his back. He picks up a cube of high-grade, drinks half before giving the rest to Lockdown, and rubs one of Lockdown's spikes in a friendly way. The horror of the ceremony is already starting to go hazy, and Prowl estimates it'll be just a few more cubes before he won't remember there was a dance at all.

"You're such a pretty ninjabot, Prowl," Lockdown whispers in his audio, making the smaller bot press closer to him. He's always loved the way Lockdown gets sweet and affectionate when he's overcharged.

The larger mech's Servos start to inch closer to Prowl's chestplate, but he'll _never_ be so far gone as to allow that in a room full of bots, so he slaps the servo away. The deep rumbling laughter is more felt than heard, and he melts into the feeling, still sipping on a cube.

They sit like that for a megacycle, sipping at the cubes. The tray they took is empty, but they weren't the only ones drinking from it. Prowl looks around, decides that's really enough for the stellar cycle, and slips off of Lockdown's lap.

At the exit of the room, they argue briefly over which way their room is, because neither bot remembers after that much high-grade. Bumblebee wanders over, nearly sober already he burns through energon much faster than normal bots.

Prowl smiles. "Bee, would you," he stumbles, "Would you mind telling Lockdown that our room is that way?" He points down one hallway, and Bee frowns.

"Actually, Prowl, I think it's down the other way."

Lockdown perks up at being right. "Hey," he drawls out long, "kid. Y'know, I've seen your spar " and Prowl shoves his servos onto Lockdown's mouth to silence him. There are far too many people around to say things like that. Oh. He pulls his servos out and wipes them off on Lockdown's chest.

"I told you to stop lathering your glossa on them when I did that."

"You know you love it, kid," and Lockdown has the smuggest of smug looks on his face. Prowl can't see that look without punching it, so he does, _hard_. Lockdown's cooling fans all kick on at once.

Ignoring him, Prowl turns back to Bee, completely missing the minibot's utterly weirded out look, and say, "Well, it is clear we won't be able to get to the room ourselves. Will you," he pauses to steady himself, and to slap away Lockdown's wandering servos, "Will you help us get there?"

Bee nods cautiously, not wanting them to accidentally wander into the wrong room, but also not really sure he wants to hear what Lockdown was going to say. Prowl half carries Lockdown, mostly staggers after him.

"You have a really pretty spark, kid... but... Prowl's is prettier."

Prowl only manages to catch a glimpse of Bee around Lockdown's frame, but Bee looks absolutely horrified. He slaps Lockdown's side hard enough to leave a tiny dent. Lockdown's fans whir loudly again.

"Yeah, it was really nice, and you looked really fraggin' hot, but you're no motorcycle ninjabot," Lockdown adds, sincere and smug at the same time. His servo slips down to tease at Prowl's spark chamber panel again.

Bee jerks and twitches nervously, obviously trying to pretend none of this was happening. "Oh, look!" he shoved a door open. "Look, we found your room!" He laughs nervously, "This is great, and uh, I have-very-important-things-to-do-goodbye!" and he's gone in a blur of yellow and black.

Prowl feels like he should call out to Bee and tell him it is okay, but then Lockdown licks all along the top edge of his fairing, and all he can think about is shoving the mech on the berth. So he shuts the door, and does just that.

* * *

**Please Review**

And cut off the porn in this one. Granted, they _are _drunk, and they pass out part way through. But there you go. Go check out the livejournal post for it.


	4. Fourth Day

There is a dance contest in this chapter! Fun, fun!

I also totally space cased posting this yesterday!

WHOOPS

Sorry about that.

Here it is now, though.

* * *

Prowl can't remember precisely what they're meant to be doing this solar cycle, though he knows the guests are supposed to participate. If they have to do something like that thing which he shall never mention again that happened the previous cycle, he's going to sneak out with Lockdown and see if they can manage four links without instantly offlining.

Their paint is absolutely _ruined_, and the sight of Lockdown covered in gold streaks sets his fans whirring. Or trying to, in any case, and he can't help but smile at the way a few of his fans manage nothing more than a hesitant clicking sound.

He closes his chestplate while reaching for the polishing cloth. Tugging Lockdown next to him, he kisses him softly, ignoring when the other bot tries to deepen it. He pulls away, and starts to clean his partner.

If they have to participate in something, Prowl wants Lockdown to look like he's just gotten a fresh coat of paint. He buffs away every bit of his own paint from his partner's frame, smoothing out the dents and scratches he'd given him, though he's well aware that Lockdown would be happy to wear those around in public. Exhibitionist.

He allows Lockdown to return the favor, but does stop the bot from running his servos along Prowl's chest plate for longer than necessary. Shaking his head at him, the ninjabot pulls the larger mech off the berth.

"We need to head off, and we _both_ need time to recover," he punctuates that by tapping over where one of Lockdown's fans are, and turning away before he can catch the lecherous look he knows will be on the mech's face.

They mull around in the reception area, and Prowl manages to drink a bit of energon to help bring his levels back up after their somewhat _strenuous_ activity. He exchanges pleasantries with a few other mechs, who all seem to be a bit unsettled by the extremely self-satisfied look on Lockdown's face.

Bee has carefully kept himself away from them, and is currently standing beside Blurr, the two of them chattering at speeds that no one else can comprehend. He wonders if it's time to pay Blurr that visit, but is interrupted by the ministerbot, who has begun to herd the bots into the main hall.

He smirks when the bot stutters to a halt because of Lockdown's expression then hurries on. Turning to the giant mech, Prowl puts his servo in his, and walks with him into where they're being dragged. Raising an optic ridge, he realizes that there is going to be more dancing.

He is _just about_ to pull Lockdown to his level and tell him they're leaving, when he sees Sari walking in sedately. Pulling her close, he whispers, "There wasn't any mention of terrible processor scarring things for this stellar cycle's festivities, are there?"

Sari gives him a look that practically screams, 'do you really think I'd be here if there was?'

Whatever they're expected to do, it won't be as bad as the previous solar cycle.

"Excuse me, may I have your attention," the ministerbot raises his voice above the crowd, "it is time for all bots to find a partner for the competition."

Lockdown perks up visibly beside him, and Prowl himself notices his systems steadily increase their sensitivity and focus. They both love to win.

Baring his denta, Prowl walks with Lockdown to get ready for the contest. He pauses slightly, optics narrowing when he sees a diplomatbot teaming up with Bulkhead. From what little he could remember of him, he was _very_ into large mechs, and that's just no good when it comes to someone as innocent as Bulkhead. Kissing Lockdown, he whispers what he's planning on doing to him, and stalks over to Bulkhead.

Letting his expression drop into a friendly and loving smile, he taps his brotherbot on the back, letting himself be pulled into a hug. "It's good to see you as well, but I need to talk to your... date privately. Is that fine?" he says as he's put down.

The green bot frowns, "Optimus and Sari did that, too. Ironburner, seemed really nervous after. You aren't going to hurt him, are you? No one else _wants_ to be with me."

Patting Bulkhead lightly, Prowl smiles at him, soft and friendly, "I would never hurt him with undue cause, don't worry about it."

Out of audio range from the larger mech, Prowl smiles pleasantly at Ironburner. "It's nice to see a stranger so interested in spending time with Bulkhead."

"Yes, well," the red and dark-orange mech seems flustered, "we all need partners for the dance and Bulkhead was standing alone, so I thought, well, he seems . . . nice?"

If that's lust in the other mech's optics, he's going to online to find his servos and peds have gone missing.

"Bulkhead is a very nice mech," Prowl agrees, almost congenially, "and I have counted myself as one of his friends for a very long time now. In fact," he pauses, "I've often discovered that when Bulkhead is upset, I myself become terribly upset. Though Bulkhead and I handle that . . . upset in very different ways."

He casually glances back at Lockdown, who is grinning incredibly happily, but Prowl knows it looks more like the bounty hunter is thinking of ways to dismember people for profit; Ironburner had followed his look, and made a small static sound in his speakers. Giving Bulkhead's "date" a grin that very nearly matches Lockdown's, he nods, "I'm glad we understand each other. And, oh look, Ratchet is coming over to talk to you as well. I'm certain Bee won't be far behind."

Passing Ratchet as he walks by, they share a look before continuing on. Prowl knows that Ratchet will say something along the lines of, "Try to get into his spark, and you will find yourself without one of your own," so just walks back to Lockdown without looking back.

Bulkhead gives him a bit of a cross look, likely able to guess what they're doing; they've driven away other bots before, but Prowl is fairly certain that Ironburner won't run off. Prowl simply links his arm with Lockdown's and waits for the competition to begin.

They've danced before, in the bars and clubs they've visited while working, and more than that they fight. Their fights are like art, like dancing, and thirty stellar cycles of them have given the pair a perfect understanding of how to move together.

The music starts, something ancient, suited to the ceremony. Prowl neither knows nor cares what it is at this point, and without a single word, he and Lockdown are moving.

Prowl is only marginally aware of the rest of the bots in the room, and only then when they come close enough to register in his peripheral vision. Sari is sweeping Optimus around the room in a human waltz, Optimus taking rather well to the following role. Ironburner has his servos in absolutely appropriate places on Bulkhead, and the larger bots are being careful to not crush any of the smaller dancers.

What he's doing with Lockdown is too _violent_ to be called graceful, really. It's a fight at its most basic level, a cautious step forward met with a lean away, a push met with a pull, servos clasped tight, shifting to other places as the music calls for. Each bot in perfect synch.

At some point, all the other couples have stopped dancing, and stand on the sidelines. Bee and Blurr dart around the room like a pair of organic hummingbirds, until they too seem to sense something and stop.

The music abruptly ends, and the punch he threw lands square in Lockdown's face; the music's absence skewing their timing. Glancing around in confusion for an astrosecond, they realize they're the only ones on the floor. They laugh loudly at winning, and Lockdown pulls him into a kiss, lifting the ninjabot in his arms.

Wrapping his own arms around the mech's neck, avoiding the spikes, he deepens the kiss out of sheer excess energy. They only break because Optimus is tapping on Prowl to get his attention. Huffing slightly, he drops out of Lockdown's arm and on to the ground soundlessly. He leans on his bot's legs as the ministerbot clears his audio.

"Well, yes, uh..." He stutters to a stop from the horribly pleased with themselves looks Prowl and Lockdown give him before soldiering on, "It looks like we have the winners. They will be joining in the secondary couple role on the sixth day."

The energon in Prowl's system freezes. The other bots offer something approximating applause, but that doesn't matter because his audio receptors are glitching, as there is _no way_ he just heard the ministerbot say that. Lockdown's engine rumbles against him, limbs tensing in a way that Prowl recognizes as pre-flight behavior.

He keeps a servo clasped on Lockdown's hip, using it to pull the larger mech out of the room. The little ministerbot takes them to a small room, where Ratchet and Arcee are already waiting. If looks could offline, Prowl is fairly certain Lockdown would be a cold heap of metal on the ground, considering the particularly toxic look that Ratchet is giving him.

"I'm sure you're both very happy," both bots' engines grind from something that is entirely _not_ happiness, and the ministerbot hesitates, "to uh, to have won the competition. You'll be helping the couple through the ceremony of separation, and you'll have a symbolic place and lines to offer during the final bonding rights."

They stare at the ministerbot is horrified anger as he explains their duties. When he gets to how one of them has to play the femme role, Lockdown and Prowl glance at each other before nodding, knowing exactly who is going to be doing that. They had already discussed that if they are ever going to have sparklings, the larger mech would be carrying them. Lockdown is so huge, any sparklings they have would very likely _kill_ Prowl if he tried.

As such, Lockdown would be the one who will play the role, and spend the day of isolation with Arcee. Besides, the femme actually seems to _like_ the huge mech.

Prowl wants to offline someone when they're informed they will not be allowed to see on another until the morning of the bonding ceremony, when they will be _painted_ to mirror the bonding couple. He'll be spending a cold recharge _alone_ and then be rewarded with the most purge-inducing paint applications he's _ever witnessed_. They will be provided with a small download file of the lines they need to repeat during the ceremony, which Prowl decides is marginally better than being expected to memorize the Pit-damned things.

Then, both mechs are shoved out of the room with surprising force, because Ratchet and Arcee are to begin their separation that night, while the secondary couple is at least allowed one more chance to interface. Prowl locks his servo around the chains on one of Lockdown's hip tires and _drags_ him towards their own room.

Shoving past various bots that clearly want to either congratulate or interrogate them, Prowl nearly causes a incident when one steps in front of him, just barely not kicking the mech in the face. He manages to shove Lockdown into the room, just about to push him into the berth, when he sees it is already occupied.

Prowl just barely keeps himself from hissing angrily to get out, since they _are_ his family, and says, almost civilly, "And why, exactly, are you here?"

Bee seems to be trying to hide his chestplate from Lockdown's optics behind Sari, making Prowl remember his partner's comment about the minibot's spark from last night. He rubs his temples as Sari begins to speak, her voice rife with amusement, "You know, I was thinking it would be _Bumblebee_ that wouldn't realize what was going on the dancefloor."

Lockdown coughs, "It was a competition," as if that was answer enough. He supposes that for them, it is. Neither mech enjoyed losing, though had either known that the prize itself was so highly unwanted, they would have gladly given up.

"Yeah," Sari grins, clearly having the hardest time not laughing at them openly, "a competition to judge which couple was destined to be bonded next."

Prowl's expression twists into something not quite friendly, because really, Sari hadn't warned them about this _either_.

"It's supposed to," and she snickers, "supposed to give you 'firsthand experience' with getting hitched!"

"Get out." He points at the door, and Sari starts to leave, snickering at them as she goes. Bee shuffles awkwardly behind, keeping her between him and Lockdown. Prowl lets out a loud and grating sigh, "Bee, stop that. He has _no interest_ in you."

"But his fans turned on after he talked about my spark!"

Lockdown chuckles at that, and nuzzles into the ninjabot's neck. Prowl sighs again, "No, I just hit him. That's how he reacts to me beating him up."

Bee just continues to look dubious and worried, so Prowl punches Lockdown's side hard enough to dent him again. Lockdown's fans click on in a rush of sound, and a little moan escapes his vocal processor.

"Oh," Bee mutters, looking vaguely ill. "I uh, I see. That's um. . . That's great for you. We-should-be-going-bye!" and he yanks Sari along with him, the girl nearly incapacitated with laughter. Prowl locks the door and leans his head against it, venting air out in a long, shuddering sigh. He turns to face his partner.

"If you aren't on the berth in an astrosecond, I'm going to _throw_ you on it."

* * *

**Please review**

I cut out the porn.

It is on the journal if you want to read that. You are welcome to leave a comment _there _if you want. I do have anonymous comments allowed.

I'm just kind of sad about the lack of comments on this story :C


	5. Fifth Day

My eyes hurt.

But enough about me. You want to know what's going on in this chapter.

TL;DR: Prowl hates the world; Lockdown is covered in dents and is very chatty.

* * *

He onlines to the sound of pounding on the door, and almost turns off his audio receptors to _go back to recharge_. The only reason he doesn't, is because Lockdown rolls over to his side making unhappy tired sounds, knocking him off the berth and onto the ground. Landing silently, he snaps his chamber closed, and slams open the door.

The ministerbot almost hits him in the chest, but Prowl will _never_ be so tired he can't catch an untrained bot's servo before it can damage him. "What?" His voice is flat and angry, still groggy from recharge.

The smaller bot tries to yank free, but gives up when the ninjabot is certainly not going to let _go_ of the one that woke him up at some Primus damned megacycle in the morning. He finally manages to choke out, "Y-you need to go take care of Arcee and Ratchet during the isolation cycle. Waking them is part of your duty!"

Prowl lets him go, and turns back to the berth. When the ministerbot doesn't _leave_, he snaps at him, "I am waking him up, now _get out_."

The ministerbot rushes to obey, fleeing the instant it's obvious Prowl isn't going to fall back into recharge. Upset and twitchy, Prowl grabs Lockdown's shoulder and shakes him. "Wake up," he demands, dodging out of reach when Lockdown dazedly tries to pull him down beside him.

"Prowl?" he asks, only half-online. His optics flash, indicating he's checking the time. _ "Primus_! Why the frag did you wake me up this early?"

"We have 'duties,'" Prowl has to fight not to sneer, "and you need to go wake Arcee." He runs a polishing cloth over himself, removing Lockdown's paint from his frame. He places a servo over Lockdown's when he tries to take the cloth for himself. "Get the paint off, but leave the dents. If I can't _see_] you today, I at least want you thinking about me."

Ignoring that Lockdown's fans turning on at the instruction, he glances along his frame to make sure he got all the paint off, absently noting that Lockdown hadn't even left a scratch. Silently impressed by that, he watches him finish cleaning up, and drags him out of the room.

"You are going to wake up Arcee. She's most likely going to be worried that Ratchet will bolt today, since this _is_ the day that's allowed. Just tell her that if Ratchet gets too worried or out of servo, I'll knock him offline."

Lockdown chuckles, managing to steal a quick kiss before they have to part ways. Prowl is absolutely positive that they and that Primus damned ministerbot are the only bots in the entire hotel that are awake at this horrifying megacycle. He raps sharply on Ratchet's door, expecting to have to wait for the other bot to wake up and come over, but is surprised when Ratchet opens the door after a few short astroseconds.

"Ratchet, it's good that you're awake already-"

"Why are you here," Ratchet interrupts, optics searching the hallway. "I wanted Lockdown."

He wanted . . . "Why?" Prowl asks, shocked. Ratchet hates Lockdown, he knows this, and there's no way his dear friend can possibly be suggesting that _Prowl_ play the femme's role in this farce.

"Because I don't want him near Arcee. He needs to be where I can keep an eye on him."

Prowl just stares at him for a klik, then turns on his heel, realizing he isn't going to be able to change the medic's mind. Not when all he wants to do is recharge. "Fine. I will go get him, and wake up Arcee myself."

He takes off to Arcee's room, running as fast as he can while remaining silent. He managed to get there just as Lockdown was going to knock on the door. Putting a servo on the mech's arm, he shakes his head irritably. "Ratchet wants _you_."

"_Why_?" Lockdown asks, completely and utterly confused. "We both know I'm better suited to play the femme here, kid." He taps Prowl's chest plate. "No room for any sparkling of mine in there."

"You'll have to ask Ratchet that," he slaps Lockdown's servo away. "He's already awake, so you should have it easy." And since he's now irritated with Ratchet, "It's your job to knock him out if he tries to run."

He watches Lockdown walk away, admiring his lines and his aft before focusing on the task at hand. Arcee. He knocks on her door, waits until she opens it, looking like she didn't recharge properly.

"Hello, Prowl," she says softly, and the ninjabot punches his irritation at her not being surprised to see him in the faceplate. "Can I get ready before we head to the room?"

"That's fine, Arcee." He steps in silently, and leans on the wall tiredly; waiting for her to pull out various items so they don't get bored. He smiles in amusement when she hands him a large flat electronic board, she is clearly planning on using games to distract herself.

He carries it to the room, leading her to the room, he mentally sighs at the size. Arcee had invited her students as her family, and a very large group of them accepted. It will take a bit of skill to keep them in line, part of the reason he wanted Lockdown here, he's large and intimidating enough that they won't just automatically assume they can do anything they want. But mainly because he's not a femme.

Arcee stops just outside the entrance to the new room, and puts a servo on his shoulder. "You seem really upset, Prowl. I'm guessing it's not just because you had to wake up early?"

"I can't believe everyone expects me to play the femme's role. I mean, it's so obvious that this should be Lockdown with you right now, Arcee." He waves his free servo in the air, "Ratchet can't even stand Lockdown, but I know you get along with him just fine. And as much as I care for you, I should be spending today with Ratchet he's _family_ after all this time." He really is upset about that. His team is the only family he has anymore. "Lockdown would make a hilarious femme, and I know you'd be better at keeping him in line than Optimus and the others."

Keeping them locked in a small room is a recipe for disaster. He still can't believe Ratchet wanted this.

"Most importantly," he continues, "Lockdown is going to carry any and all sparklings if we decide to have them." It feels much better to have all of that out in the open.

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad you're here, Prowl." Arcee smiles at him. "It's good to have a familiar face around most of the students I'm going to meet are fully grown now, and I'm not sure how well I'm going to remember them."

Prowl gives her a small smile, feeling so much better since he got that off his chest. "I'm sure you'll do just fine, Arcee. Even if they only came to see the famous defeaters of Decepticons, they're here for _you_ right now. They knew what they were getting into when they accepted."

He opens the door, and she walks in. He helps her set everything up how she wants it, and runs to let people in as they knock at the door. When everyone is in, checks to make certain that he got the right head count, and comes back with an entire day's supply of energon.

He's lucky he's a ninjabot, or he might have had trouble carrying that many cubes. Balancing the trays reminds him a bit of some of the training he'd undergone, though the fact that the trays were loaded with energon made him feel more like a service drone. This hardly seemed like it was giving him any better sense of what a bonding was like. If he were against all odds and common sense the one being bonded, he'd hardly be fetching energon.

And Lockdown Prowl's processor glitched. Who the frag would end up conscripted for Lockdown's 'family?' Shaking the disturbing image of Lockdown surrounded by Decepticons, being congratulated for snagging a ninjabot, from his head, he puts the energon on the table.

He takes a cube to Arcee while sipping on one himself, and watches her former students quietly. They are all stepping very lightly around each other, and Prowl feels a small ache in his spark; all Arcee has for family is the team and bots she taught as sparklings forever ago. He's slightly happier about being here for her now, or she would have even less familiar friendly faces.

He's not sure the Autobots can ever properly make up for the fact that they left Arcee in cold, lonely stasis in some out of the way place. A few of the students make tentative overtures to Arcee, telling her they remember her, that they loved her lessons best. She flushes and laughs, happy and kind as always. Prowl can't tell if she genuinely remembers them all, but Arcee does an exceptional job of appearing to recognize everyone.

On the other hand, many of the ex-students know each other, to both positive and negative consequences. One set is actually a bonded couple, two femmes in pastel paint. They have their servos linked when they talk to Arcee, telling her about the sparkling they have enrolled in classes.

"If you're still planning on teaching in the future, we'd like to have him take a class with you," the mint green femme admitted, a bit shy about it.

Arcee presses a servo to her chest, her voice hitching just the tiniest bit, "I'd love to teach your sparkling."

Watching them makes Prowl smile, and he watches them for a bit too long since there's suddenly the loud clang of metal hitting metal. Spotting the problem instantly, he gets between the two bots trying to rip each other apart. They managed to get a good hit in on the other before he was there, but the ninjabot is too fast for either to get another. He almost considers asking Arcee if she wants them unhurt, but he realizes he _really_ doesn't have enough patience for that.

Knocking them out quickly, he stands on top of both of them as he speaks, "Now then, we won't have any other incidents like this, are we?"

All the rest of the bots shake their heads quickly, and Prowl throws the formally fighting ones out of the door, ignoring the clang of crumpled metal when hey hit the wall. "Anyone wish to explain what that was about?"

One of the mechs that had been standing near the other bots raised his voice hesitantly, "I think they knew each other from class. They were calling each other," he glances at Arcee and seems to rethink his words, "some very unpleasant names."

Arcee sighs long and low, "I think I remember them. I was always having to separate them during their lessons. It seems their animosity only increased over the stellar cycles. So disappointing."

As much as Prowl would love to get his servos scratched with other bots' paint, no one seems willing to so much as argue after his earlier demonstration of force.

He sighs gratingly, and flops into a seat. "Now then, what was it you planned on us doing, Arcee?" He waves a servo at the large table she had him carry to illustrate what he was talking about, and she smiles at the distraction.

She sits next to him, all the other bots joining in, and starts to explain the game they're playing to pass time. The first round, she wins handily, even with everyone seeing each other's normally hidden items, and then they begin playing in earnest.

It is a few megacycles after playing this that she starts to worry about Ratchet taking off.

Prowl wouldn't have noticed at all, had Arcee not continued to glance at the door, fidget in her seat, and look unhappy for as long as it took her to remember to paste on a smile again. He puts a servo on her shoulder and speaks quietly, "You needn't worry, Arcee. Ratchet loves you."

Startled, she shakes her head, "No, I'm not worried." Her servos twist anxiously in her lap.

"I'm sure he's panicking just as badly about you," he promises. For Ratchet to have been online when he went to wake him, he'd have had to have almost no recharge. "And while I know it's not traditional, Lockdown has orders to knock him out if he has to."

"No!" Arcee shouts, clearly upset, "You can't do that! It goes against all the traditions and you can't _make_ him bond to me if he doesn't want to."

They've gathered more attention than Prowl would like from the rest of the guests, so he lowers his voice again. "We're not going to let him run if he's frightened that you won't want to bond with him."

"But why would he think _I_ don't want to?"

The ninjabot just shakes his head, "Because Ratchet is increasingly dysfunctional when it comes to you." He's about to go on when Lockdown starts talking on their shared com.

"Kid, this is so boring. Your family is no longer as funny as they were a megacycle ago. The yellow ones calling me your boytoy was funny at first, but now it is just repetitive."

Prowl's optic ridges furrow. He's certain they're not supposed to speak over comlines today; the room he's in is shielded against normal comlines, though it would take a substantial increase in shielding to shut out the modified systems he and his partner use. He turns back to Arcee, who is watching him with suspicion in her optics.

"We can't really trust Ratchet to be making rational decisions about you right now, "

"C'mon, Prowl. I know you can hear me just fine. No, frag you, I'm not letting you talk to Arcee over my com, medic. Back off."

"so if we have to save him from himself, we will," Prowl continues, doing his best to ignore his partner's harassment.

"Prowl. Prowler. Kid. C'mon, stop ignoring me. I'm _bored_ over here. They won't even let me drown my boredom with high-grade."

"Stop calling me, Lockdown," Prowl snaps, "you are _not_ incapable of entertaining yourself."

Arcee gasps, tone disapproving, "You're _talking_ to Lockdown, Prowl? You _know_ you're not supposed to have open comlines today."

Prowl restrains himself from covering his face with his servos. "Trust me, Arcee. Sometimes I _wish_ I was capable of shutting this particular com down. Unfortunately, it was built to resist any such attempts." They worked in a risky career, and could not afford to be suddenly unable to contact the only person they knew they could rely on.

"Proooowl," his partner drawls out, whine pitching it higher, "I'm being abused over here. Come save me." Silence for a moment, "Fragging _ow_! Little yellow techno-organic hits_ hard_, Prowl. You'd be proud."

"And this is another reason why I wanted you here," He says just before sending a loud high pitched squeal into the com that is the audio equivalent of a kick in the face, only much less likely to get Lockdown's fans kick on and more likely to get him to stop bugging him.

Turning back to Arcee, he sighs at her expression. "Lockdown doesn't like to be ignored, Arcee. It is a little hard to get him to be quiet unless I'm there to do something to keep his mouth shut."

"Well, please _try_ to ignore him, for my sake," she rubbed her servo against her thigh plating. "Did . . . did he say anything about Ratchet?"

Still worried about him; Prowl supposes it's natural for a couple crazy enough to want to go through this insane ritual to be concerned that their partner is going to flee.

"He wanted to talk to you. Likely, he wanted to ask if you'd decided you were going to run yet."

She shakes her head, "I'm the one who dragged him into this ceremony. How could he possibly think I'd run away after all the . . . effort it took to convince him to do it?"

And Prowl really, really doesn't want to think about what Arcee had just been about to say.

Thankfully, Lockdown's gravelly voice comes in loud and clear to interrupt any unpleasant thoughts that gave, "Kid, did you know how crazy your family is? Your Prime and bridge boy are having trouble keeping the medic from running out the door. And the techno-orga-FRAG- _Sari_," Prowl can practically see Lockdown glaring at Sari since she so clearly punched him, "along with the minibot keep bugging me."

Prowl ignores Lockdown's narration, gritting his denta to stop from replying out of instinct, because it will upset Arcee if she knows he's still being nagged by his partner.

There's a thump at the door, and he glances over to it, ignoring Lockdown's running commentary about Bulkhead and Ratchet. He vaguely considers opening it up to see what the noise is, but decides against it. It is most likely just the two bots he threw out finally waking up, or trying to get back in. Either way, he's just not interested in dealing with it.

Lockdown starts talking again, and he's fairly certain it is him forgetting he even left the com on to talk to Sari. Prowl smiles as his mech talks about how it will be if they ever have sparklings. When the mech starts laughing, Prowl _knows_ that Sari just gave him one of her horrified looks.

Luckily, Arcee is distracted by several of her former students, so he's fairly confident she doesn't realize he's only paying half-attention to her. Lockdown's voice becomes a sweet background noise, comforting him in ways Prowl didn't realize he needed. "-you oughta try it someday, Sari. Your spark isn't doing you any good all locked up like that," well, most of what he says is soothing noise.

"Prowl, I really wish you were here. Could help me explain to the little techno or -_Sari_, just how nice it is to have your spark hey, what the frag. How'd you get in- " and the com is abruptly cut off.

His servos dig into the chair he can't panic. He absolutely cannot panic in a room this small, this full of other bots; he vents out a long, shuddering sigh. Engine running hot, but silent, his most quiet fans kick on, frame preparing itself for combat.

As the com silence drags on for long cycles, he can't help it, and gets up. Pacing back and forth in front of the door, he glances around for any potential openings that anyone can get in. There aren't, which is the _point_ of isolation, no one gets in or out without the secondary's approval. It doesn't help.

Lockdown is still in Ratchet's room, since they weren't going to deal with the other isolation room if there was only the family. Right now he wishes they had.

He's almost climbing the walls when Lockdown comes back on the line. Snapping into a standing position, he listens as Lockdown says, almost breathlessly, "Okay, kid. That was someone wanting to come in to get at Ratchet. Tried to kill him."

Prowl's processor races with questions, but he bites out the one he thinks is most pertinent, "And you tore out his spark, right?"

Every bot in the room freezes, except for Arcee, who stands and exclaims, "What?"

"Yeah, was kinda thinking we'd want him alive for questioning, but I can do it right now if you'd like."

"Have Optimus and the others go to the isolation chamber and lock themselves in," Prowl orders, pushing Arcee's servo off of his arm, "after you interrogate him, I want you in there with them."

"Can do, kid," Lockdown purrs at him over the com, "wish you were here." The 'so I could interface you through the floor' was unsaid, but with Lockdown, it was definitely there.

He rolls his optics, and turns to Arcee who is giving him a very angry look. He cuts her off before she can start asking with, "Assasination attempt. Lockdown is dealing with it. I would have been told if Ratchet was hurt. Go back to what you were doing."

Arcee give him a _look_, one that makes him feel like a disobedient sparkling, but he refuses to show it, so she sits back down with her former students. He follows her, and drops back into his own chair, a leg over the arm, too worried to sit properly.

It takes several breems before Lockdown coms him again, tone that particular shade of satisfied that indicated he'd had to use physical force to get the answers he wanted. "Bot finally coughed up that Arcee was the original target, Kid. So don't you go letting anyone into that room until the fragging Elite Guard show up and make sure this slag doesn't have anything set up for tomorrow."

"Well, get your aft to the isolation chamber after you call them, or I'll kick it in there myself." He pauses for a brief moment, "And turn off your fans. I know you have them on even if I can't hear them. You _always do_ when I threaten you."

"Asking me to do something impossible, Prowl." He can imagine Lockdown's smug face. "I'll just leave this bot nice and restrained here, pretty package for the Guard. Hey, did you know that Ratchet keeps a pair of stasis cuffs underneath his berth?"

"I," he rubs his face wearily, "just get to the isolation chamber, Lockdown."

There's silence, and then real silence, the sudden cut of the comline that means Lockdown must have shut the chamber's door. Well, at least his partner will keep himself busy trying to get his com to work through the extra layer of shielding.

The rest of the cycle is wonderfully mindnumbingly boring. He's thankful when it comes time to kick all the extra bots out, and they start to settle down to recharge. He's sitting next to Arcee and patting her back to calm her down as she prepares to recharge alone for the second time in a row, when Lockdown gets his com to start working, "-ggin' piece of- THERE! Prowl! I got everyone out of the room, and no one is in other than the medic and me. How're _you_ doin'?" The last sentence is practically purred.

The ninjabot sighs, and glances down at the now recharging Arcee, "Arcee is asleep, and the room is also secured."

"If the femme's asleep, I guess that means she won't notice if you touch your chest plate."

"Lockdown, I'm not interfacing over the com with you."

"You look so good with your spark showing, Prowl. I've missed you all solar cycle, and I interrogated a bot. You know what that does to me."

"I am _not_ interfacing over the com with you."

He shut down his com to the furthest extent that he could Lockdown could still contact him if he tried, but he'd not be getting any more dents or scratches for a _very long time_ if he did.

Settling down in the berth, Prowl shifts unhappily, missing the warmth of his partner. They don't recharge alone anymore unless they're on a dangerous mission, and, even then, only if they're separated forcibly. He shoves the thought out of his processor, and forces himself down into recharge.

* * *

**Please review**

No porn to cut out for the rest of the story! OH MY!

But, yeah, second to last day, everyone!

ALMOST DONE.

Tell us what you think o3o


	6. Sixth Day

LAST CHAPTER

Woooo~

Hope you enjoy it!

* * *

He is woken _again_ at an insane megacycle in the morning by pounding at the door, and he doesn't even have his mech there to bury his head into. He vaguely wonders if he can just ignore it when Arcee puts a servo on his shoulder. "You need to open it, Prowl. It_ is_ traditional." She gives him a look that clearly shows what she thinks of his breaking tradition the stellar cycle before, and that he's not doing it _now_.

Prowl slinks reluctantly out of bed and to the door, reminding himself that greeting a visitor with a punch isn't really appropriate behavior. The ministerbot is standing there, looking deeply, deeply nervous. Perhaps he'd already woken Lockdown.

"Arcee, you need to begin your final preparations, and Prowl," the ninjabot gives him the most poisonous glare he is capable of, and the ministerbot's engine hitches painfully, "Prowl, you need to meet with the artist to be painted."

Painted. _Primus_, this was going to be the worst solar cycle _ever_.

The only thing saving the ministerbot from being thrown at the wall is that Arcee standing _right behind him_. So Prowl sucks it up, and follows with nary a sound. But when he sees all the pots of paint, he almost turns straight around.

Arcee grabs his arm, as if reading his processor, and pushes him into the chair gently. "This is going to take a while, get comfortable."

The artist, a tall, thin bot with steady servos, doesn't seem to recognize that he is on-edge. Prowl has to offline his optics while the mech works, because he's fairly certain he'll knock the brush out of his servo otherwise. He vents in and out slowly, seeking a peaceful meditative state, because he knows he'll need every bit of patience and serenity he can possibly garner.

His com flickers to life a short while later. "Prowl. This is _edible_ paint. Don't you dare go hiding after all of this is done, got it?" Prowl smiles, too deep in his meditation to be upset by the interruption. There's a sudden discord of sound, followed by Lockdown again, "Stop _hitting_ me! Of course my com fragging works. Do you think I'm an amateur?"

Prowl chuckles softly, not seeing the look Arcee gives him since his optics are still off, but he does hear her say irritably, "What, exactly, is so funny."

She is using her teacher voice, treating him like a misbehaving sparkling, and he's in too good of a mood right now from Lockdown that it makes him laugh even more. When he finally calms down, he says, "Did you know the paint is edible?"

She sighs softly, "Didn't you turn _off_ the com?"

"That won't stop Lockdown, Arcee," his voice is tinged with amusement as he replies, and she lets it drop.

"There, all done," the artist sounds so fucking self-satisfied with the _horrifying_ symbols that Prowl almost loses the calm he's achieved. Almost.

The paint is possibly even worse on his own frame than on Arcee's or Ratchet's. It all pops horribly against his black base and gold detailing. The 'sparkling' glyph over his chest is particularly awful.

Then he's given the download for the lines he's expected to recite, and the things he's expected to do during the ceremony. None of it looks pleasant, and he really can't imagine saying some of these things to Lockdown.

Mainly the "Promise to never hurt you" part, but all the stuff about destiny overcoming all bounds is pretty sickening, too. He's only putting up with this because it is _Ratchet and Arcee_. If it was anyone else, it is very unlikely he'd be willing. When a tiny voice comments on how he'd do the same for any of his teammates, he beats it into submission and stabs it in the spark.

He places a neat and careful notation in his processor to contact his team after the ceremony and let them know that his life as a bounty hunter is very hectic and this means that if any of them ever choose to undergo this ceremony, he might mysteriously find himself engaged on the opposite end of the galaxy for the indeterminate future.

Arcee has had her paint touched up as well, and he notes that they match nearly perfectly, though the artist has apparently taken leave of his senses and painted extra _fertility_ glyphs on Prowl that Arcee doesn't have. Why does everyone assume he's going to be carrying the sparkling?

He follows Arcee out of the room, since she knows where they're going. He pauses midstep when the com crackles to life, and Lockdown whispering into it, "Kid! I need to tell you something really important before we do this."

Continuing his stride, he is silently bouncing inside, surely _this_ is when he's finally going to be serious about saying it. That would make all the stupid humiliating paint and horrible idea of everyone insisting he should _die_ by saying he'll have the sparkling worth it. He doesn't let any of that come through in his voice, though, and murmers back, "And what is it this time?"

"They made me remove all the _dents_, Prowl! Even the one on my chest."

Prowl's good mood instantly crashes, and he's back to being angry at the universe. "Shut _up_, Lockdown," he snaps, and jams the com as low as it can go.

He's silent then, won't even answer Arcee's concerned looks with anything vocal, though he smooths his expression into something more peaceful the face he wears when he's not surrounded purely by family, or Lockdown. Walking into the room looking upset will not make a good impression on anyone, and Prowl wants this bonding to go perfectly for his friends.

They stand at the door for what seems like forever, though his chronometer informs him it is less than two kliks. The faint sound of music fades entirely, and the doors slide open slowly, the hall filled to capacity and then some with bots and reporters and cameras, each and every one of them utterly silent. He locks optics with Lockdown, who is standing on the opposite side of the room beside Ratchet, and it amuses Prowl when Ratchet and Arcee visibly relax at seeing the other present.

They walk in at exactly the same time, as in step with each other as they can be when you have a gigantic bot as the secondary mech role, and _everyone else_ is more medium sized. It feels like they are walking through water, but he knows his processor is just speeding everything up.

When they get to the middle, Lockdown lands lightly on his knees. Prowl gives him a confused look until Ratchet stands on a raised platform so everyone can actually see him behind the bounty hunter. Arcee joins the medic as Prowl steps a little closer to clasp servos with his partner.

The ministerbot begins with a speech in ancient Cybertronian, which Prowl is too emotionally compromised to bother translating he doesn't pick up a single word of it, focusing instead on not making any mistakes. Their lines come Prowl speaks in perfect synch with Arcee, Lockdown slightly less so with Ratchet. They promise each other fidelity, respect and joint-protection, sparklings, dozens of other things that scarcely register. The promise to 'never harm' their partner makes both Lockdown and Prowl smile knowingly at one another there's an oath they'll break the next time they find a berth.

Then he gets to the part he was both looking forward to and dreading horribly. Lockdown's soft rumbling blocking out Ratchet for him as he says, "I love you with all my spark and always will."

And he can't help it, his spark just breaks knowing that Lockdown most like will never _actually_ say it in anything but a joking tone at _any other time_. His face falls, and he says softly, almost brokenly, "And I, you. Forever and always."

His optics glitch, the room going hazy around him, so he can't see the startled look on Lockdown's face. Both pairs lean close to kiss, sealing the bond. The audience, which had been so very hushed, bursts now with noise, wild cheering and applause, and the roar of engines and clicking gears. Prowl ends the kiss as soon as possible, disentangling his servos from Lockdown's, wanting nothing more than to have a bit of privacy to try and pull himself back together.

Lockdown keeps trying to take his servo, or pull him close, and Prowl deftly avoids the touches, leaving the hall the moment the attention turns on Arcee and Ratchet. Frag Lockdown's instructions he's getting this slagging paint off himself _now_.

He even splits a hologram decoy, so the various reporterbots that followed him out take after that instead. He heads straight to their ship, not wanting to deal with the Primus damned hotel room and its paint covered mirrors. He grabs a cloth and heads further in, ignoring the numerous places he knows _Lockdown_ likes, and heading straight to a meditation area he had long since decorated with various organic plants.

Back when he'd first set this room up after having removed all of the debris Lockdown had let accumulate there he'd place a large, smooth mirror at one end of the room, as part of a meditation shrine. It serves just as well to check his polishing, so he can be sure that every speck of paint is removed from his frame. He can't believe that Lockdown won't just fragging _say_ the words he wants to hear so much. His mech is just so so slagging frustrating.

The door slides open and he can see Lockdown approaching him from behind in the mirror, but he still drops the cloth, startled, when arms wrap themselves around his chest. His spark aches, and Prowl has to fight the urge to just punch Lockdown and hide himself away to cry.

He lets himself be pulled into a gentle hug, and kissed softly on the temple, trying not to melt into the larger mech when Lockdown rumbles out, "I meant it, though."

Prowl turns away, not wanting to hear whatever excuses his partner will come up with, but just ends up trapped a little more. "I love you so fraggin' much. The idea of not having you with me," he closes his optics, Prowl can see him do it in the mirror, so he just continues to watch him. "It makes my spark feel like somethin' is rippin' it apart. Punching a crack in it and ripping into it with their claws." The larger mech opens his optics, the red seeming to shine a counterpoint to what he's saying, "I never knew this was so _important_ to you, kid. If I had, I would have told you every stellar cycle. Pit, every megacycle. Breem. Cycle. Klik. Ast-" Prowl puts his servo to Lockdown's mouth, quieting him.

"I know you do, saying it that often will cheapen it." The ninjabot pulls him down into a kiss, not even caring how much the paint is getting all over him. When they finally part, Prowl runs a single servo through the paint, putting it in Lockdown's mouth. "So... Shall we go get Jazz for that threesome?"

* * *

**Please review**

There! It is done!

Hooray! 8D

Tell me what you think, guys!

If you leave a signed review with your email, I can actually reply!

And I really _do _reply to every one I can.


End file.
